Make Believe Mailer 33: J-pop-pourri 2021

Featuring 10 Songs Showing Where J-pop Goes Next

I wrote the end-of-year J-pop feature for The Japan Times this week, looking at…the year in J-pop. You can read it here, though if the paywall gets in your way, here’s the summary:

Last year was an epoch shift for J-pop. Accelerated by the COVID-19 pandemic, the Japanese music market truly embraced digital-first realities, a fact reflected by a new wave of artists and projects moving to the forefront of the music market. YOASOBI, NiziU, “The First Take,” TikTok and so much more, coupled with once stuck-in-the-90s entities like Johnny & Associates pivoting…at their own pace…towards 21st century truths on how people consume music.

This year…just kind of underlined all that again. YOASOBI got bigger, as did NiziU. New acts focused on digital emerged. Johnny’s kept launching YouTube channels and social media accounts. “The First Take” was still massive, and saw more legacy acts getting in on it. TikTok…still important. The whole year felt static in terms of industry-wide change, almost like it was catching its breath after 2020 (while also dealing with a 12 month span featuring far worse COVID case numbers than what came before).

So J-pop was defined by feeling, from the escapist joy of K-pop and Johnny’s, to flashes of anger courtesy of Ado, to the continued glum reality reflections of YOASOBI. Along the way, plenty of new perspectives and depth emerged, offering a snapshot of where the music industry…and those tuning in…were at mentally.

BIG MOOD

But! Lots of other stuff happened too! This edition of the newsletter features quick hits on other important developments that either couldn’t get much attention in the piece…or were cut out entirely because they were too much of a detour (see…the first topic tackled). What a year!

Holy Shit, The Olympics Happened

Nobody talks about this lolz. Tokyo held a Summer Games and Paralympics in the middle of a pandemic. It’s too early to really settle on a legacy for Tokyo 2020 + 1, but the fact I’ve seen nearly no reflection on what was once billed as the country’s most potentially transformative moment in the 21st century sums it up — it was something the country just had to get through, and the hope of it being some pivotal moment a la 1964 vanished.

But also…Tokyo actually pulled it off without incident. That it won’t be remembered is a testament to how well the local organizers managed everything (Beijing 2022 is already more of a mess…Tokyo 2020 can’t even get the honor of being the messiest pandemic Olympics. Thanks a lot omicron! / uhhhhh no comment on the other stuff).

While now just a ho-hum memory, I don’t think it can be ignored how much of a cultural black hole the Olympics ended up being. From roughly May to the end of September, everything felt stuck in quicksand, the months leading up to the Games being a barrage of negativity from all corners of Japanese media (social, televised, or otherwise) that…overshadowed everything else. The center of it all was the Opening Ceremony, which I’ve written enough about, but offered a miniature summary of the country’s pop culture fumbling over the past decade and provided a chance to reassess the entirety of the 1990s.

I believe 2021 in J-pop was an industry kind of stuck in a holding pattern. I think two things contributed to that — the pandemic, and the Olympics. One chugs on, with a new wave preparing to make the winter worse. The other has already faded away, but to assess 2021 in music (or anything pop culture or societal, really) is to face its very existence brought everything to a halt.

Something I’m Happy To Be Wrong About (For Now)

For a bit there at the end of the summer, it really looked like live music would take the place of the Olympics as COVID scapegoat in Japan. Tabloids and TV shows flocked to Fuji Rock expecting disaster (didn’t happen), but then were gifted the spectacle they craved thanks to a poorly organized hip-hop festival in Aichi called NAMIMONOGATARI2021. Masks left at home, booze flowing, punter shoulder to shoulder…it looked horrible, and actually lead to a cluster of COVID cases. It also prompted even greater scrutiny of live events…well, live music events, seeing as baseball games were packing people in at the same time with none of the criticism. I attended Supersonic in September, and one of my strongest memories was seeing rows of camera crews just waiting to pounce after the event ended, looking for anyone having too much fun.

I thought we’d see even more pressure put on festivals, live shows and club events following NAMIMONOGATARI, as the public generally seemed aghast at it all. I though…music, about to be ruined! Thank god I appear wrong…once the State Of Emergency was lifted in October, everyone chilled the fuck out and live music has actually been pretty ever present in the final three months of 2021, with none of the media attention. I’m not sure I’d say I’m optimistic about the state of live music in the country — venues are still shuttering due to pandemic losses — but it’s not a target of ire like I thought it would be (which, weirdly enough, seems to be starting in the U.S.?).

I write this, though, on the day the first locally transmitted case of the omicron variant has been detected in Tokyo, so it’s possible everything swings back in the next couple of months. For now though…savor the fact live music isn’t ground zero for a potential rebound.

Parental Advisory

Actually briefly touch on this in the Japan Times story, but it’s worth a deeper dive. YOASOBI’s “Yoru Ni Kakeru” is a massive hit and a genuine moment of an entire music industry turning towards a different direction. Part of what made it hit so hard in 2019 / 2020 was the tension between a generally chipper piano-accented melody and lyrics about throwing oneself off of a building.

In May 2021, YouTube slapped “Yoru Ni Kakeru” with a content warning (above), for containing content about “suicide or self-harm topics.” It wasn’t the only Japanese song greeted with this adjustment — Shinsei Kamattechan’s 2020 song about a teenager who livestreamed their own death also got it¹ — but it was certainly the biggest. Even the English-language version got the same treatment.

I’m not particularly interested in getting into the weeds about why YouTube did this — I think it’s a totally justified warning given the subject matter, though perhaps the platform should consider how much more damaging and potentially harmful content abounds that doesn’t require a warning beyond a J-pop song. What I do think is important is this recalibrated the current wave of glum J-pop away from topics that might hinder potential growth in favor of…gloominess that isn’t too depressing. YOASOBI haven’t come close to wading into the lyrical waters of “Yoru Ni Kakeru” since, and I think this content warning has at least a little to do with it. And I think the ripple effects are going to emerge too.

What’s Up With Aimyon?

You can argue…and you probably should argue…that Aimyon kicked off an entire new generation of J-pop back in 2017. She sang about less-than-upbeat topics and achieved massive success on streaming before either were accepted as the norm. She’s the most important artist of the last five years, but she also feels…slightly obscured as 2021 comes to an end.

Aimyon is still huge, let’s be clear, but she’s not really at the center of everything like it appeared she would be when “Marigold” was becoming a year-defining smash. It’s common for artists who end up setting the pace — eventually, new names sweep in and take advantage of new realities. Aimyon in 2021 actually now sounds like an alternative in a J-pop landscape she constructed. She’s not a post-Vocaloid creator, and her songs wrestle with a wide variety of feelings beyond “bummer, dude,” highlighted by the mini controversy recently where people apparently got angry that one of her songs mentioned sex. She exists in a really interesting space, not quite the center of attention but shaping so much.

Why Does Amuse Have A Bandcamp Page?

Dare you guys to put the Southern All-Stars discography up there.

Japan Looks Towards Asia

Tokyo dream pop / chillwave group if that’s still your vibe the fin. recently collaborated with Chinese band Orange Ocean. That’s the latest example of Japanese acts connecting with the rest of Asia, whether it be pure indie experiments, remix projects, or Avex artists venturing out to Mainland Chinese survival shows that probably can’t air at the moment. Whatever form it takes, J-pop is becoming more interested in the immediate geography around it, and I think that’s something that’s only just starting to really become clear.

10 Songs Showing Where J-pop Will Go Next

Enough talk of what was…what comes next? While 2021 could feel stuck in the mud at a lot of times, there’s also plenty of hints at where J-pop goes moving forward. Here are ten songs that I think illustrate what comes next for the industry, from sonic trends to distribution.

Fujii Kaze — “Kirari”

Purely because Fujii Kaze has been set up as the next big thing in J-pop, and I feel like 2022 will be his moment to truly ascend up. Beyond marketing though, he represents a shift away from gloomy reality towards a more shimmering vision, with “Kirari” being his masterstroke up until now. Yeah, things stink…but you can find escape in love and pop, and Kaze explores both in equal measure.

WurtS — “Remon No Hibi”

TikTok will slowly mutate from left-field discovery platform to the place for new artists to build their reputation. Buzzed-about whirlwind WurtS has built a reputation on said short-form video app, thanks to vertical-first videos and a genre-hop-scotching approach to music (a slightly mean summary of what they do…a more sandpapered Mom). This is the formula to becoming a TikTok-born star, and they are as good a representative as any to emerge from it as something more than surprise.

Daoko & TAAR — “Groggy Ghost”

A 2020 development that went into deep freeze during the doldrums of 2021…artists rejecting labels and talent agencies in favor of true independence, moves that threatened to upend the traditional J-pop industry structure. I’m bullish on more pursuing this path in the years ahead, which makes someone like Daoko…throwing away major-label connections to go fully alone and build something all her own…a pioneer. Seeing her embrace this over the past 12 months has been a thrill, and I believe it will be part of a greater shift.

JO1 — “Born To Be Wild”

Pop project JO1 connects Japanese entertainment with K-pop in a way that I think will be present in the domestic market for the next half decade at least — two sides working together to create something ideal for the specified market, with potential for greater global growth.

Batten Girls — “Watashi, Koi Hajime Tatte Yo!”

OK, this is partially pure personal bias…this is one of 2021’s best songs from my perspective, heart-racing and heavy in equal measures…but consider it a stand in for the pendulum swinging back towards idols sometime in the near future. Idol music has long been a canary in the uptempo coal mine of J-pop, and the last two years have been particularly rich, as attention has drifted away from the scene, allowing for more experimentation. The next sonic and aesthetic movements will be co-opted from this space.

4s4ki — “Sugar Junky”

Similarly, I’m not sure if 4s4ki herself will be the one to bring the sound many label “hyperpop” to the Japanese mainstream, but I think what she’s been doing over the past two years will be ironed out and made palatable for mainstream consumption sometime soon. She’s the one ahead of everyone, though, and her influence is only going to grow further.

Akane — “Yo Kya JK Ni Akogareru Inkya JK No Uta”

Currently a huge TikTok hit that has crossed over to the top three of Spotify’s Japan Viral 50 chart, this song reminds of how many different perspectives can emerge from a more fragmented music scape — this is a song about being a high schooler from a recently graduated adolescent using rap as delivery for observations of youth. Except even more just-graduated teens and high schoolers themselves to find attention in the near future.

Keisuke Kuwata — “Soul Koburatsuisuto ~ Tamashi No Monzetsu”

Though let’s not overvalue youth in a rapidly greying country — stuff like this, which finds an established (read: older) singer appealing to the majority as they dodder towards old age, will only become more common, and eventually…your favorite artists from youth will be doing the same.

King & Prince — “Magic Touch”

Less about the sound or style, more about the feeling that more and more Japanese artists are going to make a greater push into foreign markets in the years ahead, emboldened by K-pop and now aware of how the digital life works. If they want to go down an international path, it’s going to be available to them.

Chili Beans. — “lemonade”

Never discount Japan’s greatest strength though — rock still looms large, and bands like this viral breakthrough (name inspired by Red Hot Chili Peppers! Sort of cute!) show that a younger generation is ready to step up and take the reins.

Written by Patrick St. Michel (patrickstmichel@gmail.com)
Twitter — @mbmelodies

Follow the Best of 2021 Spotify Playlist Here!

1. Related 2021 discovery…this song seems to have singlehandedly transformed the subject matter into “YouTube lore” about lost media or tragedy or whatever way this can be presented for curious eyes.